Friday, March 16

If I wasn't such a sucker for you...

And with every passing day, I ask myself why I still live here. Why, season after season of mostly gross, miserable, unappealing weather, I choose to remain in New England. Perhaps it is because I am sucked in by the appeal of the (very short) spring and summer months and the beautiful (though sometimes wet & humid) weather they bring. In the summer, it is easy for Rhode Island to lure you in with its beautiful coastline, its serene sunsets and its way of transforming into a bustling touristy beach town right before your eyes. It is easy to be seduced by morning yoga on the beach, homemade ice cream from Brickley's, and outdoor festivals and concerts almost everywhere you look. Rhode Island takes on another life in the summer - it comes out of hibernation and begins to look like a place where people actually enjoy being outdoorsy.

But just as she takes you in and makes you feel all comfortable, warm and happy, a cold front moves in around early September that will empty the beaches and remind us all that cold rain, snow and cloudy days are around the corner. Growing up and loving Rhode Island is somewhat like an abusive relationship. There's the tension - the fall months, as it gets colder and grayer, the bitterness of winter peeking in every so often to make sure we are all sufficiently depressed....then the explosion -winter, which can be marked by the first day the temperature drops below 40 degrees in the morning and doesn't end until usually mid-April, when the moderate temperatures prove themselves to be more stable and permanent than they did in March. [Case in point: Earlier this week, it was 55 degrees, sunny, breezy....all around perfect. Just perfect enough to make me believe that perhaps spring was upon us. I left my window open as I slept. The birds chirped in the morning. And then, with the blink of an eye, I awake to find the yard covered in snow and sleet, my car covered in a thick layer of what can only be described as sludge. And it is 24 degrees outside my friends. 24.]

Where was I. Ah yes, the key part of the cycle of abuse. The honeymoon stage. Better known to us Rhode Islanders as summer. Summer can sometimes be too hot, but generally speaking is wonderfully warm during the day, cool enough at night, and brings a spark of life back that was probably lost during that last sleet storm while you were walking to your car with your umbrella being blown in the wind and your face frozen by the very cold rain. The honeymoon is what keeps us around. It's why we brave the bitter cold months. It's why we don't all pick up and move our entire state to Hawaii [we're small, I'm sure we could find a small island somewhere to all inhabit. we're bringing the red sox too. just so you all know.]

Well that and everyone in Rhode Island who grew up here is scared that the rest of the world is very dangerous. And very big.

My father on going to Italy over the summer on vacation, "I'm not going to Italy at a time like this! There are terrorists everywhere, people want to kill Americans, we'd all be forced to run around naked with chickens infected with bird flu while singing the national anthem!"

Alright, that might be a slight [slight] exaggeration. You get the idea.

But here I am. Fooled by Rhode Island's promises of warm summers and a plethora of beach days. I'm planning on breaking this cycle soon, I swear. I'm going to throw buckets of ice at myself anytime during the summer that I find myself swayed into staying, just to remember the feeling I had this morning while wiping said sludge off my car.

If I forget though - will you please remind me? Thanks.


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